fatealteration | (no subject)

Giorno was grinning and he wasn't sure why. He rubbed his forehead against the firm surface of Joseph's collar. "I want to go to Starita...let's get a fried angioletti..."

"Sure, sure," Joseph said agreeably, though he found Giorno's sudden affectionate tone startling. "Whatever you want after this."

Even though barely a minute had passed, it felt like a lifetime. Giorno’s breath was uneven, but he was still upright—

Cough

A sharp metallic smell hit his nose. He pulled the boy back slightly to see a mess of blood pouring from his mouth onto Joseph’s shirt.

!!

"Hey, Giorno!" Joseph gave Giorno a shake, trying to rouse him.

Giorno’s eyes were glassy, unburdened by the effort of focusing. Everything was foggy outlines of light that cut into the shadows before vanishing. His thoughts ruptured into nonsense before dissipating. Joseph’s words bounced around the air before reaching his ears.

“…Mn?” He squinted, but it didn’t help. Everything was dark. He reached up with effort to touch the person’s face in front of him.

Ah.

Everything came back into view, his entire world narrowed to one pinpoint. He knew who this was at once. This was a face he could never forget.

“Padre…sei qui?”

’He’s hallucinating.’

Caesar ignored the panic rising in his throat—-whatever he did, he couldn’t lose focus on his form. He could feel Giorno’s blood vessels rupturing, and he focused one hand over the broadest part of his back to focus the energy into renewing them. The other went to the base of his neck to stabilize his nervous system.

“Jojo.” Caesar nodded urgently to the towel on the bed stand. “Clean him up. Remind him to breathe.”

Caeasar did not need to ask twice. Joseph ripped off his shirt and dabbed at Giorno's face.

Joseph gave Giorno's face a squeeze to make sure he was listening.

"Hey, breathe in time with me."

He grabbed Giorno's hand and pressed it against his chest, and breathed in, then out again. In and out.

His father was asking him to breathe? That was easy. His father could have asked for his beating heart and he would have reached into his own chest to give it to him.

So Giorno did—the pain was distant and meaningless. The exhaustion was nothing. The fear was nothing.

“It’s working. Keep going.” Caesar could feel it—whatever the poison was doing to him, it was slowing.

"Yeah, keep going." Joseph kept breathing in an out as he held Giorno's hand against his chest.

‘My heart…?’ He was breathing. When he breathed, it was beating in time. He could feel it.

But…was it his? Whose heart was it?

It was hot—everything was hot. His head. His chest. His hand. His lungs. Clarity returned, but so did pain. Giorno doubled over and coughed on his next lungful, blood clearing from his airways.

"There, there," Joseph said, dabbing Giorno's face with his bloodied shirt.

The worst of the pain ebbed away with the gentle and precise hands at his back. His mind was still cloudy but the loose threads of his thoughts steadily weaved back into place. He sniffed against the cloth, looking from it to the man in front of him.

“…Why are you shirtless?” Giorno asked, voice muffled.

Joseph let out a little chuckle as he lifted up his now-bloodied shirt.

“Oh.”

At the sight of his own blood, the dizziness hit. Giorno fell back, though he was deftly caught by Caesar.

“Ah…I’m sorry. I’ll have…another one prepared for you.”

"It's fine, it's fine," Joseph reassured him with the wave of his hand. "You okay?"

“I’m alright. Thank you. Both of you.” He had said those words impatiently so many times during everyone’s fretting for the last week, but for the first time they were heartfelt.

Giorno swept a hand through his messy sweat-damp hair, accepting a glass of water from Caesar. “Now…without further delay, please. It may be a bit awkward, but you’ll need to drink my blood.”

"What?!"

For the first time ever, Caesar had the same gut reaction as Joseph.

“How else did you think I was going to get the antidote into you?”

Joseph had no answer for that. "W-why'd you think I'd want to drink your blood?! Do you think I'm a vampire or something?!"

“…Should I mix it with juice for you?”

Joseph huffed. "How much am I supposed to drink, anyway?"

“Let’s start with a few ounces. My blood should be rich in antibodies right now, so hopefully it won’t take much.”

“Not without at least finishing your water.” Caesar nudged Giorno from behind. “I don’t want to delay things but you’ve already lost quite a bit already.”